The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 04 (of 11)Ibsen, Henrik
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The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 04 (of 11)
Ibsen, Henrik
Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906 -- Translations into English; Norwegian drama -- Translations into English
Mountain walls behind us, black,
And below a void unfathomed!
First we clove through banks of mist,
Then we clove a flock of sea-gulls,
So that they, in mid-air startled,
Flew in all directions, screaming.
Downward rushed we, ever downward.
But beneath us something shimmered,
Whitish, like a reindeer’s belly.—
Mother, ’twas our own reflection
In the glass-smooth mountain tarn,
Shooting up towards the surface
With the same wild rush of speed
Wherewith we were shooting downwards.
ÅSE.
[_Gasping for breath._]
Peer! God help me——! Quickly, tell——
PEER.
Buck from over, buck from under,
In a moment clashed together,
Scattering foam-flecks all around.
There we lay then, floating, plashing,—
But at last we made our way
Somehow to the northern shore;
Swam the buck, I clung behind him:—
I ran homewards——
ÅSE.
But the buck, dear?
PEER.
He’s there still, for aught I know;—
[_Snaps his fingers, turns on his heel, and adds_:
Catch him, and you’re welcome to him!
ÅSE.
And your neck you haven’t broken?
Haven’t broken both your thighs?
And your backbone, too, is whole?
Oh, dear Lord—what thanks, what praise,
Should be thine who helped my boy!
There’s a rent, though, in your breeches;
But it’s scarce worth talking of
When one thinks what dreadful things
Might have come of such a leap——!
[_Stops suddenly, looks at him open-mouthed and
wide-eyed; cannot find words for some time, but at
last bursts out_:
Oh, you devil’s story-teller,
Cross of Christ, how you can lie!
All this screed you foist upon me,
I remember now, I knew it
When I was a girl of twenty.
Gudbrand Glesnë[24] it befell,
Never you, you——
PEER.
Me as well.
Such a thing can happen twice.
ÅSE.
[_Exasperated._]
Yes, a lie, turned topsy-turvy,
Can be prinked and tinselled out,
Decked in plumage new and fine,
Till none knows its lean old carcass.
That is just what you’ve been doing,
Vamping up things, wild and grand,
Garnishing with eagles’ backs
And with all the other horrors,
Lying right and lying left,
Filling me with speechless dread,
Till at last I recognised not
What of old I’d heard and known!
PEER.
If another talked like that
I’d half kill him for his pains.
ÅSE.
[_Weeping._]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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